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There was another court-room I had to attend. This one was a little more familiar and certainly much less daunting. It was the re-reading of the Last Will and Testament of Merton Vale which, by Goblin law, could not be completed until the fate of Alva was determined. She was, plausibly, a benefactor in her late husband's will and so, if she had been acquitted of his murder, she would have been eligible to receive a bequest. Now that her guilt was established, the same law directed that she must be excluded for any benefit. This reading was a much more subdued affair than the previous occasion, even though many of the same individuals were present as the first time. Judge Kirkton presided in his own chambers, with much the same odd assortment of individuals seated around the same vast and highly-polished table. One one side of the table, occupying the same seat as before, sat Old Man Madderfy, poker-faced as always but with lines of tiredness and worry clearly visible on his face - lines that I would have sworn were not there before. The elder Madderfy was flanked by Creagan, who appeared to be concentrating very hard on keeping his fragile grip on reality intact and, in place of Alva, Busby Logan who looked suave and prosperous, a far cry from the nervous and confused wretch who was present the first time around. The same clutch of maiden aunts and dissolute uncles that had cluttered the place sat opposite; the same clerks and the same junior from Pane and Pickles, Attorneys-at-Law, flanked Kirkton at the head of the table. Clunie Ford sat demurely at the foot, close to one corner and facing the Judge, while further along the same edge, positioned like bookends, I sat with my hat in my lap. After the brief opening formalities - Kirkton was never a great one for even the most cursory of social pleasantries - the floor was turned over to Millearme. He received the will from one of the clerks, opened the seal - being careful to show what he was doing to the witnesses here present - unfolded the papers and read the document aloud in a stuttering monotone, barely audible even in the dusty hush of the Judge's chambers. The will contained no surprises as far as I was concerned and, rather than listening to Millearme droning on, I found my mind wandering in a sort of speculative semi-conscious daze. It seemed to me that Alva could not have been aware - at the time - that Merton Vale had redrafted his final will in favour of Clunie. He really had intended to set up a new life - a classic middle-aged crisis response to boredom - exchanging stability and security for the excitement of a new female in his life, not to mention the challenges of running a joint like the Starfield Club. It was all a far cry from the stolid accountancy practice that had made him his fortune. Alva knew about the previous version of the will, of course, and pre-emptively moved to make herself the beneficiary. She must have been surprised, even shocked to learn that Merton planned to give the lion's share of his worldly goods to Clunie. Panicked, she asked Clathy, as an early part of their bloody deal, to hide the impenetrable briefcase which held the latest will but without succeeding in impressing on her the importance of the case and its contents. Clathy, after - I imagined - some debate with her grandmother Argaty, started feeling nervous about the whole affair, and thought she could fob off the case on me, relieving her of the responsibility. Only later did Alva realise that the case might be found and opened - thanks to an unsolicited offer from Garrick, no doubt. She must have been furious with Clathy. She tried to buy it from Garrick, but Merton's family out-bid her, then tried to get it off me. She was already out of control. At about the same time, Alva must have tired of Hosh. Certainly, in terms of his company in her bedroom; Hosh's unimaginatively brutal approach to sex might have been exciting at first but a sophisticated female like Alva would soon find herself bored with unrelieved rough sex. She had probably also become frustrated by Hosh wanting to continue to run the Starfield Club his way, not recognising that Alva thought she was the rightful owner. All this drove Alva to strengthen her deal with Clathy and the stooge Drummond, to persuade them to dispose of Hosh and give Alva undisputed control of the Club, no doubt on the promise to promote Clathy and Drummond to positions of real power in the Club's management with the concomitant perks and benefits. Millearme's recitation in Kirkton's chambers ground to a halt. There were no questions, no objections. Nobody was showing any emotional reaction, not even Clunie, the major benefactor of Merton Vale’s last will and Testament, and now the undisputed owner of the Starfield Club.
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Part 102